


Failure is totally an option

by pebbles1971



Series: Older and Wiser [6]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: ADHD, Angst, M/M, Neurodiversity, Season/Series 01, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pebbles1971/pseuds/pebbles1971
Summary: And yet when he went into that meeting room with Rodney, he really had intended to talk to him, not just blow him.





	Failure is totally an option

**Author's Note:**

> Purely self-indulgent, angsty little snapshot of John's state of mind following on from my previous two porny pieces "Before the Talking". Plus I wanted to bridge the two different timelines I'd written in. I'm sure nobody is interested, but I was curious, and more than a little obsessed with how weird and grim John was at the end of season 1. I mean, he killed a prisoner in cold blood, ffs. Spoilers for the last five episodes of season 1.

2013

They were on their way to the ~~mess~~ main cafeteria when suddenly Rodney stopped, and taking John by his good arm, dragged him none-too-gently into the anonymous little meeting room just down the corridor. Rodney’s mouth was doing that downward-sloping thing and he looked agitated.

 _Oh, boy, what’s eating him?_ John was still in a bit too much pain to be as patient as he wanted to be.

‘You know how eventually we’ll have talked about everything?’ Rodney started, ‘only, there’s an eight-year backlog and . . .’ his hands were almost windmills they gesticulated so fast. Rodney’s blue eyes were looking particularly intense today.

‘So, talk.’ John smiled and tried not to look tired. Standing wasn’t his favourite thing lately, but he was caught in whatever this was that had got Rodney so suddenly agitated.

‘We need to talk about what happened in this room,’ the words rushed out of Rodney like spilled water. ‘Because sometimes when I come in here, even after all this time, I still get . . . poleaxed . . . by the mixed emotions I have about that day.’

John looked at him with a feeling of . . . shame. He was not going to pretend he didn’t know which day Rodney was talking about. The day over eight years ago, that the then Major Sheppard had dragged Rodney in here “to talk” and then given him the angriest blowjob ever, without saying a damn word. Because he really was that incompetent back then.

‘You wanna have a conversation eight years too late?’ John half-smiled and sat in one of the tacky plastic chairs that definitely weren’t Ancient. He was at least going to sit for this and prop his cast-arm on the equally tacky plastic table.

‘Yes. Yes, I do.’ Rodney lifted his chin as if he needed to defend his position, but he really didn’t.

 

2005

The reason John Shepherd didn't talk was not that he didn't like talking. Well, he really didn’t, but it hadn’t always been that way.

When he was younger his thoughts would force their way out of his mouth without a filter and he was constantly hearing “you can't say that” or “why did you say that?” and he really didn't understand what people meant. Now he had learnt to say very little of anything at all because he honestly did not know what he was supposed to say, and it clearly wasn't the same thing as what he wanted to say or even what he thought he should say.

And yet when he went into that meeting room with Rodney, he really had intended to talk to him, not just blow him.

He even knew what he wanted to say and had an inkling that may be this was one of those rare times when what he _should_ say and what he _wanted_ to say were vaguely in the same galaxy. But then again, he didn't really trust his judgement on these things.

What John wanted to say was _I'm sorry_ and _thank you_.

_I'm sorry for putting you in the position of having to keep my secrets without having explicitly asked you to. Thank you for being the person I trust with this secret._

_I'm sorry that I let this happen when we have a professional relationship and lives depending on us. And still thank you for allowing this to happen._

_I'm sorry that when I should be focused on my job that I keep thinking about you. But thank you for being someone who broke through to me when nobody else has in so fucking long._

What he knew he would not say is the thing he longed for. Didn't even know how to put that into words. Wasn't even in a position to ask for what he wanted.

_Will you keep flouting the rules with me and be my secret boyfriend?_

Yeah, that was fucked up and unfair and unprofessional not to mention _really_ sappy. He wasn’t going to be that kind of guy. Except, for a while now he had completely lost sight of what kind of guy he was, and he’d felt hollowed out, like a meat suit in a uniform with nothing alive on the inside.

And then this happened, and it was like Dr Frankenstein bringing something back to life inside of him.

John had been so locked down for so long that what had been ignited with Rodney felt dangerous and overwhelming as much as if felt so fucking _right_. His stupid damn longing just wouldn't be buried again. And he was so angry about that. Angry with himself for opening Pandora's Box and having no idea what to do with all the things that had flown out of it.

And this just slid along with everything else he was angry with himself about. Fresh in his mind were the sounds of wraith darts and people screaming as a planet was culled. Meanwhile the lives of this expedition and the safety of Atlantis hung in the balance, and he was utterly failing everyone.

And amidst all that anger he lost his words completely. He thought maybe he could do the _actions speak louder than words_ thing, and he dropped to his knees and before very long he was sucking Rodney off and he desperately wanted to communicate the _I’m sorry_ and _thank you_ but had a feeling all Rodney was getting was the anger John was drowning in.

And here he was, failing yet again.

 

2013

‘Hang on, back up a second. Can you tell me about the failure thing?’ Rodney asked. ‘Is this a self-esteem issue because believe it or not, I know about those. I was having my own self-esteem issues at the time about a certain hot Major showing a sexual interest in me.’ John could see in Rodney’s face an echo of the uncertainty the man had experienced back then, and amid the growing map of faint lines that traced his face, he suddenly looked younger.

‘Oh god, Rodney.’ John sank his head into his hands, ‘it was so much more than low self-esteem. I mean I was born rich and given the confidence that goes with that. The confidence that people will listen to you when you have nothing to say. That you’re important because of your bank balance even when you’re nobody. Then I was a pilot, and as a breed pilots make genius scientists look humble. Self-esteem was never my problem.’

‘Then explain it to me,’ Rodney said, not ungently.

‘Have you heard of the Peter Principle?’

‘People get promoted up to their level of incompetence, yes.’

‘Well, I’m the embodiment of it. Or at least, I was then.’

‘Oh John, no . . .’

‘Yes, Rodney. You need to understand that I didn't belong in Atlantis, that’s not self-pity, it’s accurate. I was brought along to be a side-lined human light switch and expected to keep myself out of trouble and that’s about it. And that’s because I’d already failed before I even got here. I was well and truly out of my league with everyone on the expedition, especially you. All of you were the best of the best and there was me, some guy who sat on a chair by accident and made it light up. I didn't have low self-esteem, Rodney, my perfectly accurate self-esteem was telling me quite correctly that I was out of place and out of my depth.’

 

2005

After his failed “talk” with Rodney, John stood on the pier, oblivious to his waning hard-on, watching the waves of the Lantean ocean lap at the city. He loved Atlantis so much it hurt sometimes. Hurt because he knew he was failing her and everyone in her.

Behaving like a clumsy, lovesick fool at this moment in the expedition’s perilous existence was a fuck up of spectacular proportions, even by John’s standards.

John knew that there were things that he was good at. He was a damn good pilot and deserving of the praise and promotion he had received because of his piloting skills. He was pretty good at being brave and showing courage under fire, because frankly he found it easy. He was a reasonable mathematician and had the PhD to prove it. But then he had made Major and suddenly things were expected of him that he was objectively just no damn good at. John had always been inconsistent and found his little niches to make up for that fact. When he was bad at something, he was really bad, and just couldn’t get good at it no matter how he tried.

Being a Major meant understanding structure and planning and listening and being organised and somehow he had gotten away without any of those skills up til now by being a damn good pilot and always hitting the target.

And that was before _here_ where he found himself with some of the most amazing people alive looking to him to show leadership and wisdom and strategy. And he was failing every single day.

He was just a dumb-ass flyboy, and now he was a dumb-ass flyboy who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

He was only here because he had failed to act responsibly in Afghanistan. So sure that he could be the hero and pull off a daring rescue, so sure that he knew better than the people giving the orders. And he’d been wrong. Arrogant, and wrong. And what was worse, he knew himself well enough to know he would do the same thing again not just because it seemed like the right thing to do but because he was better equipped to play by his own rules and take action than be part of a military structure. He didn’t _do_ structure, didn’t understand it, was better if it was just him and a cockpit or a gun, in the zone.

So he sat on some damn chair and had some random gene and suddenly he's leading people like Dr Rodney McKay who probably _is_ the cleverest man in two galaxies and Teyla Emmagen, the leader of an entire people, and he's just Major John Shepherd, fuck-up.

 

2013

‘Ahem, can I just interject that every time you say _dumb-ass_ , _fuck-up_ and _failure_ , I feel compelled to point out that _person with ADHD_ or just _human_ would be a more appropriate way of putting it,’ Rodney said, looking at John sternly.

‘Oh sure, I know that now, but then? I just knew there were a bunch of things I couldn’t do the way normal people could.’

‘Normal people? Really?’ Rodney rolled his eyes.

‘Okay, okay, neurotypical people, but that’s not how I was seeing things back on 05. Nothing like.’

 

2005

Leading a team of four on off-world missions was just about plausible and maybe within his skill set, but thanks to Sumner having his life sucked out of him John was also the commander of an entire military base, cut off from his superiors and living under constant threat. People were looking to him and even where he wasn't a failure, he was spectacularly mediocre among an expedition of exceptionals.

And just in this last week his failures had begun to really mount up, when Atlantis needed him most he let them all down. He failed to secure the ZPM on Dagan, and fuck, any kind of military strategist should have been able to overcome the forces that were set against them there. They should have taken a cloaked puddle jumper with a team of Marines, because a ZPM was every bit that important. He hadn’t thought ahead, hadn’t been organised. He could react, sure, think on his feet but he sucked at _planning ahead._

Atlantis should have had the means to defend herself instead of being the sitting duck she was right now, if John Sheppard knew how to do his job.

Then he came back from Dagan and engaged in some conduct unbecoming of an officer and proved just how bad a fit he was for the US military, because his impulse control was for shit.

And it wasn't that he believed what he’d done with Rodney was morally wrong, just contextually completely inappropriate. It proved how misplaced his position was and how irresponsible he could be. He needed to be better, stronger, but right now the brilliant astrophysicist was all that was giving him strength and shit, he was just so lost.

Even that stupid, fumbled blowjob in the meeting room was oh, fuck _everything_ and if he was going to die here at least let him have that . . . his longing and pleading kept trying to bargain over his common sense and it made him mad as hell.

 

2013

‘Jesus, John. I had no idea how much you were drowning back then.’ Rodney had taken the chair close to him and put a hand over his good hand.

John looked at Rodney and smiled, ‘yeah, I really was. It was the wrong time to reach out to you and at the same time I couldn’t _not._ Do you understand?’

‘A drowning man reaching for a hand . . . only, you caught hold of someone else who was drowning for another reason.’

‘Drowning under the pressure of knowing if you didn’t save us, nobody would.’

 

2005

He kept replaying that reconnaissance mission with Teyla. God, how he wanted to play his usual part. The maverick “hero” who does just what he thinks is right. And instead he acted the part of the responsible leader for his own people and failed Teyla by letting her know that her galaxy’s people just weren’t his priority. And he hated that, hated everything about the position he was in and the choice he made.

And then he had to stay and listen to a world being annihilated and somehow pretend the handful they saved was worth it. Worse, and it bit hard to admit this, was the sense that those same annihilating forces were coming for his own people, his city. He had helped bring the wraith down hard on the people of this galaxy but still didn’t feel quite the same about their lives as he did about the lives of the Earthers. Something that was keeping him up nights when he admitted it to himself and tried to think of all the Pegasus lives taken because he blundered in and killed the queen, waking them all from hibernation.

Meanwhile the brilliant astrophysicist was churning out a hundred ideas a day to save their asses and defence of the city was John’s job and he had nothing. He should have been making a plan since the day they landed that didn’t rely on Rodney’s genius being treated like an unlimited commodity until he watched the man stretched thin with it, wired on speed and expected to function under similar conditions to several consecutive all-night raves but much less fun.

He didn’t know when it happened, the final moment of clarity when he let all of this go. When he realised this whole goddamn situation he was in was ridiculous. 

_You are what you are, Shep. Just fucking own it already and accept your failure. This shit’s impossible and you can only do what you can do. Let Elizabeth and Rodney be brilliant, and you just serve._

Humiliation turned to humility and he finally saw what it meant to be simply a soldier, what his own piece of the Atlantis puzzle really looked like. He was someone who used his body in the service of others. Small and disposable but that was okay. He stopped thinking about what he couldn’t do and focused on what he _could_.

John knew his body was a reliable instrument – could fight, fly and fuck with precision. Maybe Atlantis needed more of him, but that was all he had to give.

He also knew enough to know that his body could be some comfort to Rodney in what he was going through, just like Rodney could be a comfort to him, and maybe that was something after all. So he started to sneak into Rodney’s bed, and the man clearly didn’t mind, could come down and sleep for a few hours and rest that perfect brain of his. John ached for more, but it had to be enough. And it was so damn good. Just feeling his skin against Rodney’s was more than he had ever hoped for in his whole ludicrous life. 

And in the end, the thing he needed to give Atlantis was also his body, delivered in a puddlejumper along with a nuke for their enemies. And it was a relief. One more time he could do all the things he was good at, flying, being brave, going it alone, and then it would all be over, and he was just so fucking relieved about that. It was some kind of answer when he hadn’t had any answers in far too long.

He really wasn’t scared at all. It was so damn easy to be brave when you actually didn’t care that you were going to die.

 

2013

‘But, what about me? I was falling in love with you, and all I got was “so long, Rodney” and off you flew.’

John grabbed his hand.

‘I’m sorry, Rodney. I wish I’d been able to say more at the time, but it wouldn’t have changed what I needed to do. And god, if I’d tried to say goodbye to you properly, I might not have dragged myself away.’

Rodney looked at him for a long time with that look he usually got when working out a piece of ancient tech.

‘What?’ John eventually said.

‘Oh, it’s just I find myself being angry with you still for all that stuff, for all the _not saying anything,_ and at the same time I think I really understand why you did everything you did.’ Rodney paused, clearly pondering something else. ‘I wonder what would have happened if after Dagan we had just had a couple of quiet weeks instead of an impending apocalypse?’

‘I wonder. I like to think I might have managed a conversation if I hadn’t been under so much pressure, but this is Major John Sheppard we’re talking about, so you never know.’

‘So what would you have said?’ Rodney pulled John up from the seat and positioned him where he had stood all those years before.

‘Oh god . . . I wanted to . . . apologise for dragging you into a secret, but let you know how grateful I was, how much it meant to me. Tell you it mattered to me. _You_ mattered to me. Tell you I still wanted you and it was driving me crazy. Tell you it was more than sex.’

‘And I so desperately want to tell the Major that he’s not alone.’ Rodney’s eyes locked on his. ‘That he’s wanted. That he’s impressing the hell out of all of us precisely _because_ we know he wasn’t ready for what fell on his shoulders. That if having a secret lover helps ease his burden then fuck the rules because he deserves something for himself. That he matters too, isn’t just a body there for others to make use of.’

‘Rodney,’ John stepped towards Rodney and rested his head against the other man’s shoulder.

‘And I also want to tell him I love him, and need him, and to stop being so fucking stupid about it.’


End file.
